To Control Puberty
by quillinkparchment
Summary: Post OD. Artemis Fowl has been transferred to a local co-educational day school to be closer to his family just as hormones strike. Socialising with his more active male counterparts is hard, but so is controlling puberty-especially around a certain girl.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I didn't really like the choice of females picked out for Artemis Fowl in the last two books. So I decided to create someone that was not an almost Mary Sue or not outside of Artemis' species. I'd really love it if you could stick through reading this and tell me if I've succeeded in the end. (And yes, in case you wanted to know, this fanfic is to tide me over from the pairing in The Time Paradox.) By the way, this chapter may be a little slow, because things are only just starting for Artemis Fowl…

**Chapter One**

The Fowl family was walking in the grounds, holding hands.

Well, Artemis Fowl senior and Angeline Fowl were holding hands. Not Artemis Fowl and Second so much. The fourteen-year-old boy was not up to clasping hands with another person. As a toddler he had learned to walk using the walls in his nursery as support.

So there he was, lagging slightly behind his parents. Although "slightly" is quite the understatement. It wasn't that he did not want to walk beside his parents; they were engaged in a quiet conversation and he thought it better not to be able to hear anything. Just in case.

"Come along, Arty," Angeline Fowl called over her shoulder. She and her husband stopped walking, waiting for their son to catch up.

Artemis caught up with his parents. "What is the matter, Mother?" he inquired.

"Does something have to be wrong for us to want you to walk with us?" Artemis Senior asked, teasing, but Artemis could see that there was something bothering his father.

"Not exactly, but Mother and you have been talking in low voices for quite a while before calling for me," he said. "So I gathered that something was the matter."

Angeline laughed. "He's got you there, Timmy," she said, ruffling her son's raven hair. Artemis generally did not like his hair messed up, but for once he did not feel compelled to ask his mother to stop.

"There is something that is of the matter," his father admitted. "But it's quite a small one."

Artemis nodded, waiting for his father to continue.

"Ever since my return from Russia, you've always been at school," Artemis Senior explained. "Especially since I have been fixed with my prosthetic leg" – he patted the leg fondly – "and there is nothing else but the occasional check-up, life is finally back to normal." He gave his son a smile.

Even as his father spoke, Artemis could feel the fairy communicator under his jacket, and hid a grin. Back to normal? There was no chance in the world of that happening.

"We would really like to have you back with us for most of the week," Angeline explained, smiling down at her son. "Remember the discussion we had over the phone when you were in Munich? It's the holidays, and I think there is no better time than now to switch to a local day school. What do you think, Arty?"

It would be impossible to list out everything Artemis was thinking at the moment, but what he said was, "I think that is a wonderful idea."

--

Switching schools would be one of the best moves at this point of time. Artemis, after his extended adventures with Captain Holly Short, formerly of the Lower Elements Police Reconnaissance Unit, and Mulch Diggums, ex-convict, had decided that friendship wasn't quite as beyond him as it previously used to be – well, with anyone other than Butler, that is – and in his remaining days of school he was more civil than usual with his classmates. Even the cretinous ones whose mental functions were up to blurting stupid comments and reading _Playboy_.

What happened was that the majority of the students at Saint Bartleby's Insitute for Young Gentlemen were spooked with the 'Fowl kid' suddenly being almost agreeable towards them, and avoided him even more. His teachers were surprised by the change in his behaviour, and treated him with wary glances. It would be nice to be able to start from scratch again. And so Artemis was going to take up the offer. When the holidays ended he would be in Ethelwood Secondary School.

Pity it was around the same time that his hormones, so dormant before, decided to play a more active role in his life…

--

Butler turned the Bentley into the school gates. They weren't as impressive as those at Saint Bartleby's were, but, Artemis decided, they would have to do. He smoothed down the front of his school blazer and straightened his tie. Butler glanced at him.

"How are you feeling, Artemis?"

"Reasonably well," the boy said. A lie. He was feeling decidedly nervous, which was rather uncharacteristic of him. Butler seemed to sense his discomfort and chuckled.

"It's all right to feel tense," the bodyguard said. "Normal people feel it all the time, you know."

"I'm not exactly normal," Artemis said. It was a great conversational stopper, and Artemis didn't feel much like talking presently. Butler took the hint, and there was no more talking until the car pulled up at a parking lot in the school's car park.

Butler made to get out of the car, but was halted by his young employer.

"I think I can deal with the registrations myself."

He was treated to a look of doubt from Butler. "Are you sure…?"

"Perfectly," Artemis said testily.

Butler checked the compound. There were plenty of security guards around; this was, after all, a school for the rich kids of rich millionaires. Now, he didn't generally trust security guards, but he decided to give those the benefit of the doubt. "You're not going to cut school and raid banks of art thieves, are you? With Mr. Diggums, perhaps? The dwarf may have become an investigator now, but I wouldn't put it past him."

Artemis smiled. "Tempting, but no, nothing of the sort, old friend. It's just that… you might attract a little attention."

Butler understood. The school compound was littered with teenagers. And while most of them had their ears plugged with their iPods, none of them had their two-metre tall Eurasian bodyguards with them.

"I'll come by to pick you up after school, then?"

"If you're free," said Artemis with just the barest hint of a smirk. "And if you don't mind, please bring along something tasteful. I have researched on day schools, and cafeteria food seems to be of a hazardous nature in most schools."

"Your parents enrolled you in the best local day school, Artemis."

"I wouldn't put it past the warped minds of school governors," was the reply, and then Artemis exited with his suitcase. Butler watched as his charge passed his teenaged counterparts, shoulders back, head held high. His posture was perfect as always, but, with the hoards of slouching teenagers around him, he looked aloof.

Butler sincerely hoped that Artemis would make some friends. Friends his own age, of his own species. It might be a little hard at first, because Artemis had not much experience in the _friends department_. Besides, Artemis had only just recently developed some interpersonal skills.

But when Artemis put his mind to something, that something generally got done. And Butler had no doubt that if Artemis put his mind to it, he would be (after an uncertain amount of time) surrounded by a crowd of adoring friends, all hanging on to the heir's every last word.

It was only too unfortunate that sometimes the boy's brain got the better of himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Apologies for the delay. I wondered if I should continue with this fanfic because I've renounced fanfiction on the whole. However, as this isn't Harry Potter, I decided that maybe I should just write one little fanfiction.

**Chapter Two**

"Yes, love?" asked the receptionist. The general office was crowded with chatting students, so Artemis had to raise his voice.

"Good morning," he said. "I have just transferred from St. Bartleby's Institute for Young Gentlemen, and there are things that have to be put to order."

"Ah, yes, the new student," the motherly lady said.

_The_ new student? Artemis thought. That can't be good.

Sure enough, the people around him had quieted down to watch him.

"Your parents have called to make arrangements for the transfer over the holidays, so all you have to do is fill up this form and you're done. I'll give you your timetable." She gave him a slip of paper and a pen, and he filled it up. The girl next to him tried to look surreptitiously at his name, and Artemis was about to say something cutting when he remembered to be _nice_. It was such a chore, really, especially since the girl was spreading the news that "the new boy is Artemis Fowl the Second." It was quite satisfying to hear another girl tell the first girl that "everyone knows that. His father's one of the richest people on earth."

"Here it is," he said, feeling quite relieved when he handed over the paper. He was very self-assured when it came to making speeches in a roomful of people, so why was it that some staring pubescent teenagers could make him squirm? Perhaps it was the presence of girls. He'd seen some of them and they were really quite pretty.

"Here you go, love," the receptionist said cheerfully, handing him the timetable. "Your form teacher's Mrs Hendling, and she'll assign one of your classmates to be your guide for the first week."

"Thank you, ma'am," Artemis said stiffly. As he turned around to go out of the office, the students stood back and made way for him. They couldn't have been staring more if a centaur was in their midst. Artemis wanted to give them a scathing look, but it wouldn't stop them from staring. So he looked down at his timetable.

First lesson for the day was contact time, which he supposed was for interaction between teachers and students. He was quite early, so he walked around the school looking for the classroom. People stared at him everywhere. He supposed that the school must be quite small, so everyone knew each other and new students stuck out like sore thumbs. Either that or everyone took time to memorise his face from news reports of his family (which was highly dubious since his old schoolmates preferred using their cranial capacity for the vital statistics of the Playmate of the month). When he finally got to the class, Artemis was almost regretting his decision to transfer schools. He caught himself wishing that his Eurasian bodyguard was with him and it alarmed him. He would be the epitome of pathetic if he couldn't handle a bunch of teenagers. So he squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and adopted a stern glare before almost marching into the room.

There were a few students already seated for class, but the rest were standing around a table and talking. Some turned to look at him as he entered, but they met his fierce gaze and looked away very quickly after that. He managed to find an empty desk at the back and sat down, taking out a book to read. It was barely a minute later that the teacher came into class.

"Settle down, settle down," she said briskly. "I'm Mrs Hendling, and I'm your form teacher this year. I'll be taking attendance first thing, and then we'll go on to other administrative matters. Sean Ackerman?"

Artemis sized up his teacher. She was wearing polka dots, something that he didn't approve of. Still, she seemed no-nonsense enough. He could only hope that she was better than the teachers they had at St. Bartleby's.

When she said "Artemis Fowl" everyone turned to look at him.

"Present," he said, as a few people leaned towards each other and exchanged a few words, and the teacher went on to the next person.

The boy in front of him turned around. "Which school were you from?" he asked.

"St. Bartleby's," Artemis said.

"Good school?" he inquired.

"Not too bad," Artemis said reasonably, thinking correctly that he was the horror unleashed on it and not vice versa like he used to think.

"You any good at soccer?"

Before Artemis could reply and in the process make an enemy out of the boy, a girl intervened.

"Don't drive him insane with your questions, Roddy," she said to the boy, and then turned to Artemis. "Hey, I'm Lila. My brother goes to St. Bartleby's, too. Oliver Fisher. Do you know him?"

He decided not to tell her that he thought her brother was one of the first class idiots on earth. "Yes."

"Are you good friends?" she asked, but before he could answer she went on. "He talks about how you irk the teachers. It's quite funny. Are you going to do anything like this?"

"No, we aren't good friends, and I came here to turn over a new leaf, so to speak," he said, thinking that Lila had nerve to tell Roddy off for driving him insane with his questions, seeing as she was doing the same.

"Oh," Lila said, looking disappointed. Artemis didn't know if it was because he said her brother and him weren't friends, or because he wasn't going to annoy the teachers. Then she perked up.  
"Well, seeing as you're new, you can ask me any questions."

"Thanks," Artemis said shortly, deciding not to do anything of the sort. He turned to the teacher, who was just finishing with attendance-taking.

"Everyone, we have a new student here, and I'm sure you've all realised that it's Artemis. Artemis, all new students have a guide for their first week here, and yours is going to be" (– she consulted the class register –) "Wesley Longman. Wesley?"

A boy whose sandy hair was heavily gelled put up his hand with the air of one who does it often in class. Artemis noted the thick round glasses and the eager expression on his face. He'd seen such faces in St. Bartleby's, and they usually belonged to people who considered themselves as experts in the field of science or mathematics – or rather, geeks, when in fact they were widely looked upon as nerds. The snickers he heard around the classroom confirmed his conclusion.

"Wesley and the kid of the billionaire," he heard a boy saying, "sounds like a fine match."

"Right, now, we'll go through matters of electing a class chairperson. As most people don't know everyone in this class, we'll elect a temporary chairperson, and by the end of two week we shall either let the chairperson continue with his term, or elect another chairperson. Do we have any nominations?"

At the end of contact time, Roddy was elected class chairperson by popular demand, though Artemis couldn't see why. He should have taken it as an omen for a bad day, because the rest of the day was quite a disaster. During Mathematics lesson, when they were learning linear equations (something Artemis had mastered when he was six), he was caught by the teacher reading his book, and despite several ignored explanations he was hauled up to the front by the outraged male teacher who never had any student try to talk back to him. Only when Artemis perfectly solved the question set was he allowed to go back to his seat with a warning never to be caught reading while the teacher was teaching. After Mathematics was English, and Artemis had to resist completely destroying the teacher's flawed annotation of one of Plath's poems. Even so, her lips were still trembling when she tremulously dismissed the class for lunch.

Wesley Longman latched on to him as they left for the canteen, believing to have found a soul mate in Artemis.

"Your method was ingenious, Artemis Fowl," he said reverently, blue eyes wide. "I've never thought of solving questions like that in _that_ way."

"Few people have," Artemis said with a touch of his old arrogance, before remembering that he was supposed to be nice. "Well – I've got quite a fair bit of experience with linear equations. My father taught me about them when I was six."

He grinned inwardly at the thought. The modus operandi of criminals of the mafia was a more plausible subject for Artemis Senior back then.

"Six?" Wesley said longingly. "I was still stuck on algebra then…"

They reached the dining hall, and it wasn't too shabby: the floor had a clean carpet, although the design was a tad too gaudy by Fowl standards. A buffet stood in the middle of the hall, and students stood in line to fill their porcelain plates with food. Artemis and Wesley joined the queue behind a dark-haired girl, where several of their classmates were already waiting.

"Artemis!" Roddy called, from where he was standing with Lila and another equally-insipid-looking girl. "Come join us."

Wesley had a resigned look on his face. "Go on, join them, I don't mind," he said.

Before Artemis could tell him that he would rather walk across the Arctic landscape barefoot than endure the insufferable company inflicted on him by Roddy, the girl in front of them turned around, her hair flying, and Artemis was engulfed in a cloud of the pleasant scent of shampoo.

"Hey there, Wesley, didn't know you were behind me," the girl said, flashing a grin at Artemis's companion. Her smile froze when she saw Artemis, and she inquired, "And who's your companion?"

Artemis would have introduced himself, had he not lost his voice. Had he not, in fact, been driven to distraction by the wide brown eyes that were now peering at him. As it was, he stood there with his mouth slightly parted. Most embarrassing.

"Hi Marianne," Wesley said, his expression brightening. He became very animated all at once, and it didn't take a criminal mastermind to realise that the sod was besotted by this girl. And Artemis couldn't blame him. With her clear complexion, slightly rosy cheeks (which definitely didn't look like they'd spent hours before a monitor), and Asian good-looks, Marianne was easily one of the prettiest girls Artemis had met. Though admittedly he hadn't met very many. "Gosh, I didn't know it was you! Um, this is –"

"Hello, I am Artemis Fowl," Artemis interrupted, having at last managed to regain some control over his bodily functions. "So very nice to meet you." For some reason, the formality of his attitude seemed amplified, and he cringed inwardly.

"Oh, right! The new student," Marianne said. "You're all everyone's been talking about."

If Artemis had had better blood circulation, he would have blushed. All he managed to say was, "Oh?" and it was humiliating enough.

"Oh," she agreed. She must think that he was an idiot. "I'm Marianne Song. Nice to meet you."

She extended a hand, and he shook it. It was warm and soft. "So, were you named after the Greek goddess?"

For his entire life, people had always been asking him that. Usually with the intent of teasing him, whether maliciously or not. By the time he was eight, Artemis had composed a (mental) list of witty scathing comments to fire back at the asker that was sure to leave him or her in tears. But Marianne asked it matter-of-factly and with genuine curiosity, and Artemis didn't like the idea of making her break down in sobs.

"No, actually, I was named after my father, Artemis senior," he said. "He was probably named after the Goddess of the Hunt, though, because he was so good at any kind of hunt."

She raised her eyebrows and then said, "Would you be talking about a literal hunt in the forest?"

"Well – not quite. He tried it once, and it wasn't really to his liking," Artemis said, thinking of the time his father declared hunting bears had nothing on hunting triad bosses. "But he was good at that, too," he added, when Marianne looked quizzical.

"Hmm," she said. "Well, Wesley, how about joining the outdoor activity club this term? Get outdoors a little more, make new friends? You can bring Artemis along with you. If you're interested," she added to Artemis.

Artemis always had a scathing reply ready for anyone encouraging him to do sports, which included the death toll of sportsmen, the lack of a need to stay fit in the world today, and, when the usual excuses were exhausted, the excuse of having a bodyguard well-versed in such activities would usually shut people up. However, today, Frond forbid, he was actually thinking that going outdoors was a good idea.

"Oh, I don't know, I'm not really cut out for that sort of thing," Wesley said.

"I would like to attempt it," Artemis said, very aware that although he was a head taller than Wesley, he was just as skinny and undeveloped as the other boy. To her credit, Marianne didn't smirk as he knew Holly would, though she did openly appraise his form, which would have, again, made him flush. If he could.

"Sure, come on down," she said. "We have trainings every Tuesday and Fridays, from four to six. Try to persuade Wesley to come along too, if you can." He would have to stay back for two days, after school hours. He had never had to do this sort of thing, and it would be an awful waste of time that could have been spent disproving the theories of Nobel Prize winners. He was about to tell her that he would consider it further, when she smiled at him.

He was sold.

**A/N: I realise I started this fic almost five years ago. I've been working on this fic on and off for the past half a decade, but well… I didn't post anything up. Anyway today the urge was overwhelming so here's the second chapter, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! And I do hope Artemis was in character.**


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